Adult Story

Titcage (Chapter 37)

The woman-demeaning lobby group Titcage is gradually stripping women of their rights, and has turned Claire into an obedient slut along the way…

Dark Thoughts – Ch. 1 – Abi

This story has a number of dark themes. Please read the tags before posting negative comments. Let me know what you think, as I have a number of further chapters planned.

The Taking of Elizabeth: Chapter 3

Hello and thank you for coming by to read. Once again, this story is completely fictional. I have never nor do I know anyone who has ever experienced anything like this. This is purely a fantasy based story. There are sensitive subjects such as slavery, sexual abuse, and rape in this story. If you’re uncomfortable with that, please turn back now. Hope you enjoy!

The Buffalo

This is the story of the incestuous relationship between the young and beautiful Jenny and her mad scientist father

How I lost it

I’ve often wondered why guys say they ‘lost’ their virginity. I understand why girls say it (as much as a guy can understand why girls do anything), because to them it’s something that they consider important, something they want to keep until they find just the right person they want to give it to. To them it’s like a really expensive Christmas gift. Guys don’t see it that way. From the first time they get a hard-on, or once they’ve discovered masturbation, they become obsessed with the idea of getting laid. They don’t want to ‘give it away,’ they want to get rid of it.
Like a bad cold or incriminating evidence.
I was the same way when I was a kid, which wasn’t too long ago. I turned twelve in the summer of 1998 and it was only a few months after that that I figured out how to jerk off. I did it literally every day after that, and aside from the occasional coherent thought I pretty much had sex on my brain every waking minute of my life.
And just about every girl I saw (aside from my mom and my two sisters) became sexual objects. Girls at school, girls I saw on the street or in the neighborhood, girls I saw on TV. Girls my age, girls older than me, whatever. If they had tits and they had faces that didn’t remind me of trolls, then I wanted to do it with them.
I was a fairly normal guy. At least I was then. By the time I turned fourteen, though, I’d gotten into something that seemed strange even to me. I don’t know where it came from or why it appealed to me, but I’d developed a thing for unconscious girls. What I mean is, when I masturbated I fantasized screwing a girl while she was asleep, or knocked out cold or something. Not dead, though. The girl had to be alive, at least. I wasn’t that sick in the head.
It didn’t really matter if I imagined putting my cock in her mouth or her pussy, or tit-fucking her if she had awesome tits; the thing that turned me on was knowing that she was unaware of what I was doing, and unable to stop me. Helpless.
As much as I was attracted to anything female and breathing, I had a specific set of girls I’d fantasize about. Most of them were girls I knew from my high school: Michelle Jamieson, Christina Wooster, Nikkie Sanders, Elayne Best; or that hot cheerleader, Teresa Siriani, or Jen Smith, the gothic chick who everybody said was a whore. Plenty more. But the one I liked the most was Danielle Wolfrom.
I knew I’d never get a chance with her, though, not because she was rich and blonde and beautiful and had these sweet little round titties (although all of that was definitely true), but because everybody knew she was a dyke. She’d been caught making out with Carrie Dawson in the girls’ bathroom. Still, out of all the good looking girls in my school, Danielle Wolfrom was the most beautiful. Everybody thought so.
I fantasized about certain actresses too. My favorites at the time were Candace Cameron, Jennifer Aniston (she was always showing off her nipples in ‘Friends’), Sarah Michelle Gellar, Melissa Joan Hart (massive tits on that babe), even the Olsen Twins, although in 1998 they were only twelve years old and just barely developed in the chest area. I also liked Beverly Mitchell from ‘Seventh Heaven,’ although I felt sort of guilty for fantasizing about her, because she looked almost exactly like my sister Beth.
They both had the same straight brown hair, the same big eyes and high cheekbones, and the same general (and very nice) body shape. The differences were that Beverly was prettier than Beth, and she usually had her hair parted in the middle, where Beth almost always tied her hair in a ponytail, and Beth was mostly a bitch, whereas I figured Beverly was probably a really sweet girl, unspoiled by her Hollywood success. Although, in my sister’s defense, she did have much bigger tits than Beverly did.
You’ve probably figured out that I’m a tit man.
The fantasies I had about Beverly Mitchell were sometimes romantic, but most of the time they were of the type I’ve mentioned, where she’d be getting laid while she’s asleep or otherwise out of order. What was really odd about those fantasies, though, was that I was rarely in them.
Most of the time I imagined Barry Watson, as the ‘Seventh Heaven’ character of Matt Camden, taking advantage of his sister Lucy. Not that I had any feelings for my own sister. I knew intellectually that Beth was pretty, even hot, but she was my sister, and the idea of fantasizing about her never even entered my head.
That was my life in the spring of 2001, when I was fourteen, going on fifteen, constantly horny, and feeling weird and hopeless. The spring of 2001, when I got rid of my virginity.
***
It was March 30th, a Friday. I’d had a fairly rough day at school and so was already in a bit of a bad mood, and I knew the rest of my day was going to be just as bad the minute I got home. I came through the door and the first thing I saw was Mom wandering around the living room wearing one of her evening dresses, and then Dad came in from his den dressed in a tux. That meant they were going out, some stupid dinner party, more than likely. Which meant it was going to be just me, Beth and Chloe at home all night. Except Beth always went out on Friday nights, which meant that I was going to get stuck babysitting Chloe all by myself.
Chloe wasn’t a bad kid, but she was ten years old, and a natural pain in the ass to me.
“Oh, man,” I said, unable to suppress my frustration. I tossed my backpack onto the floor in protest.
“Don’t start, young man,” Mom said as she stopped at the coffee table and picked up her purse. She opened it and started messing around with its contents, apparently looking for something.
“But Mom,” I said, “I always have to baby-sit. Why can’t Beth stay home tonight?”
“Beth is going out,” was Mom’s only reply. Apparently, that was reason enough to ruin my whole life.
“Yes,” Dad piped up, “she’s going out with that Felder boy, what’s his first name, sweetheart?”
“Roger, I think.”
“Right, Roger Felder.” Dad took a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and tapped one out into his hand. “A little old for her, but he comes from a good family. His father’s in real estate, worth a lot of money. That’ll come in handy for the summer fund raisers.”
“Of course, it’s not just his money,” Mom said. She gave up with her purse and closed it. “He’s well bred too, a gentleman. Beth can use a little more culture. And you, Joseph, don’t have anything to complain about. Chloe is ten now, so it won’t so much be a matter of babysitting her as just keeping an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t get into anything. Brad, don’t smoke now, you’ll stink up your tux.”
“As if anyone at the party tonight is going to be sober enough to notice,” Dad replied as he blew smoke into the air.
Mom and Dad started arguing then, not loudly, but firmly, and completely ignoring me. I stood there fuming for a minute before I wordlessly stalked up the stairs to my room. I slammed my door to make sure they knew how mad I was, then flopped down onto my bed.
My stupid parents. Talking about culture and good families, like they were the richest people in the whole world. Fucking snobs. If they were so rich, why couldn’t they hire somebody to look after my little brat sister? And why did they always let Beth have her way and never let me have mine? Just because she was older? It was totally unfair.
I lay there on my bed and stewed for a while, until I was able to cool down and accept my stupid fate. Things wouldn’t always be like this, I knew. When I turned sixteen I’d be able to date too, and I planned to be out every night, screwing all kinds of girls, and to hell with my whole family. But that was still two years away. Until then I was fucked.
I thought about how it would be then, sixteen, probably with my own car, and girls dying to go out with me. Not that I was the best looking guy in school or anything, but I wasn’t ugly, and I’d always have money to spend. Chicks dug money more than anything else.
I tried to imagine what that would be like with, say, Danielle Wolfrom, even though she was a lesbian. Maybe she was trying to change, or still thought she could hide her true sexual tendencies by going out with guys. I’d take her to some nice place in my cool car, buy her dinner, take her to a movie afterward. Then take her to some place secluded and give her a drink laced with a date rape drug.
She’d get all messed up and then pass out and I’d rip her blouse open and play with her little round tits, then tear her panties off and fuck her while she just laid there, completely unaware that she was getting fucked. As I thought about this I pulled out my cock and started to stroke myself.
I masturbated for two or three minutes, getting closer and closer to orgasm while in my mind I fucked Danielle Wolfrom’s prone sleeping body. And suddenly my bedroom door came flying open and Beth was standing there saying, “Joey, Mom wants you-Oh my God!”
My sister’s eyes went wide with shock and she covered the O of her mouth with her hand. I had a similar expression on my own face as I lay there stupidly holding my hard-on in my hand.
“Get out of here!” I yelled.
Beth, probably just as embarrassed as I was, immediately turned around and walked away, although she left the door wide open. I quickly put my cock back in my pants as I struggled up from my bed, then went over and shut my door. Then I just stood there, feeling both humiliated and frustrated.
‘Yeah,’ I thought, ‘this night is definitely going to suck.’
***
As it turned out, though, the evening wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected. There were moments, like when Chloe thought it would be funny to keep turning the TV off while I was trying to watch it, and when she decided she wanted to play a board game and kept bugging me to play it with her, that I wanted to kill the little brat, but for the most part my little sister wasn’t a problem. She spent most of her time watching the TV in the family room, or talking with one of her dopey friends on the phone, and pretty much stayed out of my way. That gave me probably too much time to myself.
I watched a couple of TV shows, part of a movie that turned out to be stupid, and surfed the net for porn pics. By ten o’clock I’d worked myself up to my previous state of sexual arousal and decided to do something about it. I didn’t want to get interrupted like I did last time, though, so I checked on Chloe just to make sure she was keeping herself occupied.
I found her in her room with a Buffy the Vampire Slayer comic book. She was already dressed for bed, in a set of blue pajamas with cartoon characters printed all over them.
“Hey,” I said from her doorway.
“What do you want?” Chloe replied, although she didn’t bother to look up from her comic book.
“Just checking on you, dork-face. I wanna make sure you’re not getting into any trouble.”
Chloe just rolled her eyes.
“I’m gonna go take a shower,” I said. “Don’t get into anything while I’m gone or I’ll kill you.”
“Yeah, right.”
I left Chloe’s room and went into the bathroom and got in the shower. I soaped and shampooed first, then started jacking off again. Once more I imagined doing it with Danielle Wolfrom, but this time in the fantasy I hit her square in the face, knocking her out, then fucked her unconscious body. I switched from Danielle to Michelle Jamieson, then Nikki Sanders, then Jen Smith. All of them were either asleep or unconscious in my fantasies, and imagining fucking them that way got me closer and closer to coming.
I got kind of bored with those girls, though, and switched again, this time to Beverly Mitchell. I started out imagining her doing lesbian stuff with Sarah Michelle Gellar, then changed it to a scene in which she was Lucy Camden. Her brother Matt snuck into her room while she was sleeping and pulled her nightgown off, then got on top of her and fucked her, then put his dick between her tits and tit-fucked her until he came all over her face. The image of Matt’s come all over Lucy’s beautiful sleeping face got me over the edge and I finally came.
After I was done I soaped myself clean again, then got out of the shower and got dressed. I returned to Chloe’s bedroom and found her already in bed, sound asleep. I tucked her in anyway, then just sort of stood there and looked down at her, the way my parents did. She was such a cute little kid. Brown hair and big eyes, like my sister, but with a little baby nose, and pigtails instead of a ponytail. She looked just as angelic in her sleep as any other kid. Kind of sexy too.
The second that thought entered my head I turned around and left Chloe’s room. I shut her door and almost ran out to the living room. I sat down heavily on the sofa and stared at the TV and forced the thought of my little sister out of my head.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, immobile, trying just to focus on whatever was on the screen ( a sitcom rerun that I didn’t care about, with commercials thrown in), but it must have been a long time, because I was still there when I heard a car pull up in the driveway. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was eleven p.m. already.
My parents never returned from their dinner parties this early (they never got in before midnight), so it had to be Beth coming home from her date. I debated on whether I should just stay where I was or go hide in my room. Beth was unpredictable at these times; she could either be in a really good mood or a really bad one. As I heard the car door shut, then my sister’s steps as she came up the walk, I decided to stay put and see what happened.
The knob on the front door turned, then the door opened and Beth came in. She didn’t come in all the way, though, she stopped in the doorway, her hand still on the knob, and looked at me with squinted eyes, as if I was hard to see.
“Hey,” she said.
She was wearing jeans and a striped tank-top, and she had her purse slung over her shoulder. It was the purse, the way it was swinging slightly next to her waist, that made me realize she wasn’t standing too steadily on her feet.
“Hey,” I replied. “Are you drunk?”
“Shut up,” Beth said. She staggered into the room and closed the door, then just stood there and wobbled a bit. The expression on her face was a combination of confused and pissed off.
“What time is it?” she said.
“Five after eleven,” I replied. “Mom and Dad’ll be home in about an hour. And you’re gonna be in all kinds of trouble.”
Beth clicked her tongue.
“Shut up,” she said again.
She started walking, apparently trying to make it to the hallway, but she ended up staggering over toward the sofa and me. She nearly fell on me as she tried to sit down, and one of her big boobs bumped me right in the nose.
“Sorry,” she said. I could smell the booze on her now, not just on her breath but seeming to ooze from her pores. Beth sat back, leaning her head against the back of the sofa, and sighed heavily, sending even more noxious beer fumes into the air. She put her hands in her lap and her purse fell from her shoulder and landed between her and the armrest. “God, I hate men,” she said.
“You should probably go to bed,” I said, “before Mom and Dad get home.”
“I hate Mom and Dad too.” Beth’s head teetered on top of her neck. “They’re so fucking fake.” Her head lolled to the side and she looked at me with bleary eyes. “Everybody’s fake. Know what I mean? Take Roger, for instance. Know what he did to me tonight?”
I opened my mouth to tell her again that she should go to bed, but I didn’t say anything; part of me wanted to know what Roger did to her.
“Get this,” Beth went on. “He takes me to this party, right? And we’re dancing and drinking and having a blast, right? But then he goes off with Tabitha Landry, that stupid Jenna Bush look-a-like with the fake tits and who knows how many crabs in her crotch. The bitch is a skank. He goes into the fucking BATHROOM with her, then later he tells me that he wasn’t doing anything with her. Can you believe that? Fucking fake tits, Joey.”
I had no idea what to say to any of that, especially since all I could think about now was Beth’s tits, which were obviously not fake, and totally nice. I looked down at them, intending just to catch a glance, but my eyes got locked there. They really were nice tits, even if they were my sister’s. “Not only that,” Beth continued, “but when we get out to the car he wants to go to McKinley Point and do it. Like I’m going to let him fuck me after he’s stuck his dick in that skank. What do I look like, a skank?”
“I think you look great,” was all I could manage to say.
Beth clicked her tongue and said, “Stop staring at my tits, dude.”
I dragged my eyes up to meet hers. They seemed kind of puffy and watery.
“I didn’t mean that,” I said. “I mean, I think you’re really pretty. And Roger is a jerk.”
Beth seemed to study me for a minute, as if she was trying to decide if I was lying or not, then said, “You know, you’re not so bad for a little brother.” She turned her head and looked toward the living room window. “So we go out to McKinley Point, right? And I have to wrestle him off of me because I’m simply not going to let him fuck me. Not that I’ve never been fucked before. I’m not some drippy virgin or anything.”
She glanced at me for a second, either to see what my reaction to her confession was or simply to make sure I wasn’t staring at her tits again. “Then he says, ‘You gotta give me somethin, babe, I’m dying.’ So I give him a blowjob just to shut him up. And after I’m done he’s like, ‘Man, that was one of the worst blowjobs I’ve ever gotten.'” Beth looked at me again, her pretty face screwed up with indignation. “Can you believe that? He actually said that to me. Like I’m just some dumb tramp. I know how to give blowjobs, Joey. Good ones. I’m very good at it.”
“I believe you,” I said. I felt my face turning red, not because of what she was saying, but because my hardon had suddenly returned with a vengeance. I hoped to God she wouldn’t notice.
“Do me a favor, little brother,” Beth continued. “When you grow up and start going out with girls, be nice to them. Treat them with respect and dignity. Don’t try to bully them into having sex with you.”
“I won’t,” I told her.
“Yes you will. Because you’re a guy, and guys are assholes. Roger is an asshole. I wish I’d never met him.”
Beth closed her eyes and dropped her head back on the sofa again. I looked at the clock on the wall, saw that it was already ten after eleven. I looked back at Beth, checked out her tits for a few seconds, then said, “It’s getting late, Beth. You really should go to bed. Sleep it off. You don’t want Mom and Dad to catch you like this.”
“Those fakes,” Beth said. “And you’re a nag, Joey.”
I thought I was going to have to sit with her until our parents came in the front door and exploded with rage, but suddenly Beth moved. She pushed herself up from the sofa and tried to stand and immediately fell down onto the floor.
“Shit,” she said.
I immediately got up, bent over and took her hand.
“Let me help you,” I said.
“I don’t need your help,” Beth said. She shook off my hand, then managed, with some effort, to pull herself up to her hands and knees. She stopped there to catch her breath, said, “I’m going to bed,” then began to crawl toward the hallway.
“You sure you don’t want me to help you, Beth?”
“Bunch of fucking fakes.”
I followed Beth down the hallway, ready to jump in and help her, although I wasn’t really sure what I’d do if she suddenly collapsed on the floor. I walked behind her, taking very small and slow steps, and as I did I happened to notice that, in addition to having great tits, my sister also had a really nice butt. Not quite as small as Beverly Mitchell’s, but still, it was round and really firm looking in her tight jeans.
“Stop staring at my ass,” Beth muttered as she made her turtle-like way down the hall.
I continued to follow her, thinking about what she’d told me, about how she wasn’t a virgin and had been fucked before. She even gave blowjobs. The idea amazed me and, oddly, made me like my bitchy sister even more.
We finally reached her room and I went ahead of her to turn on the light. Beth crawled across the floor to the end of her bed, then tried to pull herself up on it. She got about halfway up, then just sort of hung there off the end of the bed, her knees on the floor.
“Help me, stupid,” she said after a few moments.
I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to do that; should I grab her around the waist? Hook my hands under her arms? Or just grab her feet and toss her the rest of the way onto the bed? I finally decided the best way would be to get on the bed, grab her armpits, and pull her up. I climbed onto my sister’s bed, sat on my knees, and positioned myself as best I could. I leaned over her, then tried to slide my hands under her armpits, but somehow I miscalculated and I ended up sliding my hands right under her tits.
“Stop feeling me up, you perv,” Beth said into the mattress.
“Sorry,” I replied.
I readjusted my hands, getting them under her armpits, then pulled with all my strength. For such a slim girl she was surprisingly heavy. But I managed, with a lazy amount of help from her, to get her the rest of the way onto the bed. She wasn’t up far enough, though; her head was still about half a foot below her pillow. I didn’t know what to do about that; there was no more room for me to maneuver.
“Beth,” I said. “You have to move up. Get your head on the pillow.”
“Get your own head on the pillow,” Beth said.
“Beth, come on.” I tugged on her arm.
“Alright, alright.”
I moved out of her way and Beth inched drunkenly up the bed, looking like some kind of amphibious creature crawling up onto shore. She got her head up to the pillow, then kept going until she hit the headboard.
“Ow,” she said.
It was hard for me not to laugh.
“You should get under the covers,” I told her.
“I know how to go to bed, Joey. Jesus.”
She turned over onto her back, and as she settled her tits wobbled like jello. She sighed, closed her eyes, and said, “I hate to say this, cause you’re such a freaking perv, but you have to help me take my clothes off. I can’t sleep in my clothes. They hurt.”
“You mean… take all your clothes off?”
“No, stupid, just take off my shirt and pants. Leave my bra and underwear on. And if you touch any part of me that’s against the law I’m going to rip your dick off and make you eat it.”
“Okay, well…”
I looked her over, decided that the best place to start would be with her shoes and socks. I didn’t have any trouble with those. But now came the hard part. I had to get her shirt off of her.
“You’ll have to sit up or something, Beth, so I can get your shirt off.”
Beth didn’t answer. I said her name, said it again, but still she didn’t answer. I went around to the side of the bed and shook her shoulder. Her tits jiggled again, but otherwise no response. She was out cold.
“Shit,” I said to myself. How was I going to get her clothes off of her when she was passed out?
I spent another minute or so trying to wake her up but it was useless; my sister was dead to the world. I considered just leaving her in her clothes and trying to cover her with blankets, but I wasn’t sure if that would keep our parents from finding out. If they came in to check on her and only found her shoes and socks on the floor where I’d dropped them, they might figure it out. Beth always threw her clothes everywhere but in the hamper.
I sighed.
“You’re such a dope, Beth,” I said, then lightly slapped one of her tits. I was just going to have to do the best I could.
I sat on the bed, grabbed my sister by the wrists, and pulled her up to a sitting position, draping her arms over my shoulders. I awkwardly pulled her shirt up until it was up above her tits, then gently laid her back on the bed. That was when I saw that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Holy shit,” I said, my eyes going wide and my mouth hanging open in awe.
They were the most awesome tits I’d ever seen. Big and round. pale white with large brown nipples poking up, laying lazily on each side of her chest like water balloons. My immediate thought was to touch them, find out what they felt like, but of course I couldn’t do that. She was my sister, after all. Besides, if she suddenly woke up and found me fondling her, I’d be dead within seconds.
I stopped and took a large breath, then decided to just continue undressing her. It would be much more logical for her to go to bed without her bra on than fully clothed.
I struggled with her t-shirt, pulling it up over Beth’s head, then pulling it off of each of her arms. I threw it on the floor just as she would have, then reached for the fly on her jeans. And just as I unfastened the button I thought: What if she doesn’t have any panties on, either? The possibility only made me pause for a micro-moment before I went ahead and unzipped her fly. Right away I saw, instead of panties, a full bush of curly brown pubic hair. Now I REALLY had to get her pants off.
It was a lot easier said than done, and nerve racking to boot; Beth lay on her bed like a dead body, and it was a remarkably frustrating trial getting her jeans over her hips and out from under her butt. I finally managed it, though, and slid them down her legs and over her ankles and feet, then threw them on top of her t-shirt.
My sister was now laying on her bed, as unconscious as if somebody had punched her, totally naked. The first thing I did was push her legs apart so I could get a close look at her pussy. It was, of course, very awesome. I’d never actually seen one before, and while its appearance did seem kind of strange to me, what with the gash and the lips and the clitoris, it was still a thing of complete beauty. It was almost as beautiful as her tits, and looking at it made me understand why guys were so hooked on sex all the time.
I hadn’t been planning to do anything other than look, but as I sat there examining the most intimate part of my sister’s body the thought popped into my head: ‘Kiss it.’ And before I even had the chance to decide whether that would be a good idea or not, I was leaning over and pressing my lips to my sister’s pussy. It was warm against my mouth, and it smelled bittersweet, a mixture of the cherry scented douche she used (she kept boxes of it in the cabinet under the bathroom sink) and the musky scent that was natural to her body. I could smell her pubic hair too, which seemed soft and silky against my nose.
I kissed her once, then again, then just kept kissing her as I slowly moved from her pussy up to her belly button, then from there up to her tits. I took each of them in my hands and held them for a moment, then fondled them lovingly as I kissed them. I even licked them, and sucked on them a little bit.
It was right around that time that I realized three things: one, I was not only totally violating the incest boundaries I’d been conditioned to avoid, but I was committing a crime by taking advantage of my sister while she was passed out; two, I was right on the verge of acting out my fondest sex fantasy of taking advantage of a girl while she was passed out; and three, there was no way in hell I was going to stop doing what I was doing.
I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do. Should I keep playing with her tits, or stick my cock in her mouth, or just go ahead and fuck her? How much time did I have? I looked at Beth’s bedside clock. Eleven forty. That meant about twenty minutes before Mom and Dad got home. Not very much time.
I got up from the bed and quickly took all of my clothes off, then got back on top of Beth, straddling her this time so that I was sitting on her stomach and my cock was right above her chest. I grabbed each of her tits and pushed them together, with my cock in the middle, and tit-fucked her for about a minute. It felt great, my cock sliding between her smooth firm tits like that, but I had to stop when I began imagining coming all over her face.
I let go of her tits, appreciating how they fell so gracefully to each side, and slid one hand under Beth’s head. I gently raised it from the pillow and, holding myself with my other hand, I pushed my hips forward and guided my cock right into my sister’s open mouth.
I was careful to put only about half my cock in, so that I wouldn’t choke her, then pulled it back so that just the head was past her lips. I pushed in and out of her mouth about five or six times, and while it felt just as awesome as I expected it would, I did it mainly so that I could tell myself later on that I’d actually fucked my sister’s mouth. Not that it was easy to pull my cock back out when I achieved that goal; I really, really wanted to keep going, to even come in her mouth, but I knew that would be a mistake. Besides, I had something much better that I wanted to do, and this would be my only chance.
I pulled my cock out and very gently lay Beth’s head back on the pillow, then just as carefully moved down the bed until I was laying between her legs again. Only this time instead of having my mouth up to her pussy, I had my cock there.
I was totally nervous at this point, part of me wondering if I could actually go through with it or not, if I was really going to take this kind of chance. After all, if Beth woke up after I got it inside of her, then I’d no doubt be facing rape charges before Mom and Dad got home. Either that or she’d kill me. But another part of me, the fourteen year old guy who’d never even had a girl touch his dick, knew that I was going to do it even if it meant I would die at my sister’s hands.
I checked once more to make sure Beth was still out, then took the plunge and pushed the head of my cock into her. I could tell right away how warm her pussy was, and how it seemed to grasp and hold onto me. My sister might have been a slut, but she was a tight one. I pushed further, meeting a frustrating amount of resistance as my cock burrowed deeper and deeper.
Finally I had my entire cock inside of her, all the way up to my balls, and I stopped for a moment just to luxuriate: I actually had my cock in a girl’s pussy, I was fucking her (or would be in few seconds), I was no longer a virgin; it was the most remarkable moment in my entire life. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked down at my sister, who now seemed like the most beautiful girl in the entire universe, and I kissed her lightly on the lips.
Suddenly Beth stirred, adjusting her body a bit and turning her face away. Fear lashed through me, but only for an instant; Beth apparently hadn’t woken up after all.
I was relieved, but also acutely aware of the fact that I had to get this done as quickly as I could. So I started fucking her, pushing my cock in and out of her pussy steadily, maybe even a little too fast. The sensation was fabulous, spectacular, beyond description, and only made better by the feeling of Beth’s big firm tits against my chest. I wanted it to go on forever, or at least a really long time, and I didn’t care now if she woke up or if our parents came home and caught us and had simultaneous strokes. Unfortunately, I didn’t even last another minute.
I could feel my orgasm building in my balls, approaching like an unstoppable tidal wave, swelling my cock as I repeatedly shoved it into Beth’s pussy. And then it arrived, boiling up through the shaft and exploding out of my cock, pumping in hot excruciating bursts into my sister’s body. I might have groaned, or moaned, or shouted at the top of my lungs. I couldn’t be sure, because every ounce of my attention was focused on the tumultuous point where Beth and I were joined.
And then it was over, and I was laying on top of my sister, my chest pressing down on her big tits, my nose in her hair, and my cock, though still pumping little trickles of come, already beginning to deflate. For a few long moments I couldn’t move, I was too stunned. But then my brain kind of cleared up and I started to think about an exit strategy. I had to get her cleaned up and at least under her blankets before our parents got home. I looked at the clock: Eleven forty-five. I had to get moving.
I pulled my cock out of Beth’s pussy and jumped off the bed, grabbed the blanket and sheet under her and struggled with them until I got them all the way down to the end of the bed. I straightened my sister’s legs out, placed her hands on her stomach, then pulled the sheet and blanket all the way up to her neck. I threw my clothes on as quickly as I could, gave Beth another kiss, this one on the forehead, then shut the light out before I left her room, closing the door behind me.
I went in to check on Chloe next, to make sure she was still asleep, gave her a kiss on the forehead too, then went back to the living room. And just as I sat down on the sofa I saw headlights in the living room window and heard the sound of my parents’ car. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I’d gotten away with it.
***
The next morning, though, I had my doubts. I’d left a good load of come in my sister’s pussy, and I didn’t think there was any way she wouldn’t notice that. The best I could hope for was that she thought Roger Felder had done it to her and she simply couldn’t remember.
I was so nervous I was almost trembling when I went out to the kitchen for breakfast, but as soon as I got there I could see that everything seemed normal. Mom was at the stove preparing breakfast, Dad was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper, and Beth and Chloe were there as well, Chloe gabbing her head off to nobody, and Beth looking just a little bit hung over. Nobody even looked up. So I figured I really did get away with it.
It wasn’t until after breakfast, when Beth and I were detailed to do the dishes, that Beth said something. She was washing and I was drying, and as we worked she sort of leaned toward me and said, “Thanks for covering for me last night, Joey.”
“No problem,” I replied.
“I owe you one. And if you don’t tell, then I promise I won’t tell, either.”
Uh oh. She figured it out. I looked at her.
“What do you mean?” I said, prepared to deny everything.
“You know what I mean,” Beth said. She gave me a sly look, then pointedly glanced down at my crotch.
“No, I don’t. What are talking about, Beth?”
Beth clicked her tongue and handed me a wet plate.
“You know,” she said. “Yesterday, when I came into your room without knocking? What you were doing with your dick?”
“Oh,” I said, trying to look embarrassed, which actually wasn’t that difficult. “Yeah, right. Okay. I promise I won’t tell, Beth.”
“You better not,” she said, returning to her typically bitchy self. “You do and I’ll let all your friends know you choke your chicken. And I’ll break your nose too.”
“How was your date with Roger?” I asked, feeling the need to dig at her.
Beth got a totally pissed off look on her face, but instead of telling me to mind my own business or to fuck off or something, all she said was, “I don’t think I’ll be seeing Roger anymore. He’s a rapist.”
She didn’t say anything more, but I talked to her a few more times in the following weeks and she hinted to me that Roger had taken advantage of her when she was drunk. Then, in the first week of May, she made me go with her down to the free clinic, where she got an abortion. I had to keep that secret too, but as you can imagine, I didn’t mind. After all, she was keeping a secret of mine that she didn’t even know she knew.
end

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My New Houseplant 1

Coming home, I shut the door a bit harder than I’d meant to. It was a temptation to just drop everything in the hallway and sprint down to the basement, but I resisted. Taking a few slow, deep breaths, I made myself calm down, telling myself I had the whole evening alone and there was plenty of time. Placing my coat on its proper hook by the door and leaving my snowy boots on the mat, I made my way upstairs. Once my bedroom door was shut, however, I couldn’t resist stripping immediately. I examined my nude body in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. I didn’t look bad for my 30 years. My skin was still soft and radiant, my body still slender, breasts plump and looking just as they did my freshman year of college. I might’ve had to dye over a few grays, but otherwise I still appeared young and blonde as ever. I’d taken to looking at my own body a lot since my husband left- it was a confidence-boost to remind myself what he was missing out on. But the full-length mirror wasn’t the only new addition to the house since he’d left.
At this point I couldn’t wait anymore. I wrapped myself in my short, silk bathrobe and hurried down the stairs and towards the basement door. My fingers trembled as I opened it. As I began descending the steps, the source of my excitement came into view. It looked like an ordinary potted plant. Standing four feet high, it’s stalks were a bit thicker than usual, but to the untrained eye it was otherwise unexceptional…unless you watched closely enough to realize it was moving slightly. I’d been left quite a bit of money when my parents died, but this beauty had still cost a pretty penny, and I’d had to raise it from a seedling. I’d done so diligently, carefully following every instruction because I knew, when it was ready, the care and even the money would all be worth it. My excitement over the months grew as the plant did while I waited for it to mature. Too long I’d been cooped up in this big house alone and sexually frustrated, and conventional toys just didn’t cut it anymore. Today, finally, the plant was ready.
I reached forward and stroked one of the stalks without hesitation. Instantly it lost its appearance of stiffness and curved, tentacle-like into my touch. The plant was almost an animal, you see. According to the manual, it has instincts, even thoughts. And, most importantly, it can connect with the thoughts of its owner. The plant and I had spent many months building our connection, and I could feel it carried great affection for me, as I did for it. Lovingly I stroked its tentacles and they began secreting a thin fluid which I knew served as both lubricant and a strong aphrodisiac. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to the tentacles surface. Tentatively I ran my tongue along the shaft and felt it shudder with pleasure. It tasted exotic and slightly sweeter than I had expected. I brought my mouth to the tip of the tentacle and wrapped my lips around it. The plant liked it. I had to show that I was willing to be good to it first before I asked it to pleasure me. I ran my tongue along its surface and began pulling more into my mouth before letting it slide back out, pausing a moment around the slightly thicker head to suck before taking it back inside. In my mind I sensed the plant’s pleasure. But the aphrodisiac was absorbing quickly into my system and I felt myself growing wetter. The plant knew I was craving its touch. It was eager to oblige.
I slid the tentacle from my mouth, giving the tip a final flick with my tongue, before sliding out of my robe and tossing it aside. I had already positioned a table nearby which would place me at the perfect height to give the plant access to my body. I climbed on and lay with my knees bent and legs spread, inviting the plant in. Slowly I felt one of the tentacles brush my thigh, and from the touch it sensed what I wanted it to do. It moved down along the incline of my thigh and laid itself very lightly against the outer lips of pussy. I bit my lip in anticipation and urged it further. The tentacle shifted side to side and borrowed between the inner lips and began stroking up and down, sliding the length of its slick shaft against my slit. It applied pressure and small shockwaves of pleasure ran through me as the tentacle, slippery with a mixture of its sweet secretion and my own juices, slid along my swollen clit. I moaned slightly and bucked my hips, wanting more. The plant obliged.
Suddenly the length of the tentacle was removed and I felt its head press against my opening. I bucked my hips again, encouraging it further, and it pushed the tip of the shaft inside of me, just far enough to touch my g-spot. I groaned with pleasure as the tentacle began pushing forward, moving slowly, teasingly deeper within my body. I wanted it to never stop, to keep pushing until the whole length of the tentacle was deep inside me. Unfortunately it only go so many inches before it was forced to stop, and I whimpered. Then the tentacle pulled out to where just the tip was left and began pushing again, a little bit faster. Soon it was moving in deep, even strokes. At my unspoken request a second tentacle began rubbing along my clit and the combined pleasure of the pressure on my clit and the thick tentacle moving in and out of my pussy was sheer heaven. The only thing that could make this better…
Before I could control the thought the plant had already made its move to oblige. When I felt the tip of a third tentacle pressing against my ass my eyes flew open in shock. All tentacles stopped, sensing my fear, and my lower regions screamed at the sudden halt. No! Don’t stop! I sensed the plant was confused. It had clearly seen the desire in my mind; why then did I react with fear? I tried to convey as best as I could that the image was merely an old fantasy of mine, but something I had never actually tried, nor had intended on trying. It didn’t understand. Why did I say no when I clearly wanted it? It would not hurt me. And in the face of such innocent and inescapable logic, I gave in, because I knew it was right. The plant would not hurt me. But I needed to go slow.
The shaft in my pussy was removed, though another continued circling my clit. I felt the head press once again against my ass, with a little more insistence this time. I was nervous, but tried to relax my muscles as best I could. The pressure increased and, quite suddenly, the head pushed itself inside. It was a completely new sensation, but not unwelcome. The plant had the ability to make its tentacles thicken or thin as necessary, and the one inside me now did not have the girth of that which had been in my already-experienced pussy. The tentacle began wiggling, circling in order to get me prepared for what was to come. Slowly I relaxed, and as I did it began pushing its length deeper inside me. The sensation sent chills through my body, and again I found myself wishing that it would never stop, that it would keep moving deeper and deeper inside of me. Slowly it came to a halt and the retreated, pulling back until I felt its head tug a bit at my opening from the inside, and a small moan escaped my lips. The plant struck up a building rhythm of moving in and out of my ass, and I found that the sensation paired well with the pleasure I was receiving from the tentacle playing with my clit. Gradually the shaft thickened and my body stretched until it was able to thrust in and out of me with ease and no small amount of pleasure.
But this hadn’t been my fantasy, and the plant knew what I wanted. The second tentacle returned, its head pushing inside of my pussy, then the shaft. Before I was aware of it, both my pussy and my ass were full of tentacle, both moving quickly in rhythm as another pressed ever harder against my clit. I moaned louder as the shafts thrust deep inside me, moving faster and thrusting harder all the while. More tentacles began grabbing my legs and sliding me closer, wrapping around my waist, until I was supported completely by the plant, and it was in complete control. A fourth tentacle slid into my willing mouth. I was moaning uncontrollably as the plant thrust harder into all my holes, fucking my brains out. My whole world became the intense pleasure of the three long shafts moving in and out of my body, bringing me closer and closer. Suddenly all the tentacles expanded to their fullest thickness inside of me, stretching my insides as they drilled into me, sending me over the edge. I came harder than I have ever come in my life- the orgasm ripped through my entire body, and my screams were muffled by the thick shaft filling my mouth, which was now flooding me with a warm, sticky-sweet substance.
Slowly the tentacles removed themselves from my body, though one continued to slowly and lovingly stroke my clit, prompting a shudder each time as my orgasm subsided in a haze of pleasure. The plant, also satisfied, lowered me gently to the ground where I lay panting, trying to catch my breath and regain some sense of reality, though the only thing that was clear to me was that the plant had been the best purchase of my life, and excitement for the many eventful days to come.

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Deep Crotch Mother – Chapter 1

I do not OWN this story. I’ve read it somewhere else and I’m posting it for all you good folks. This story contains religious and sexual scenes that you may not agree with, please DO NOT read this story if you are against any religious perversion thingies. This is a story of Marcella Plummer from the Church of Holy and Mysterious Revelation. I hope you enjoy it <3